


Before You Go To Sleep

by kookaburrito



Category: The New Normal
Genre: Beard Fetish, Beards (Facial Hair), Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 11:49:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4099861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kookaburrito/pseuds/kookaburrito
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David comes home after a weekend away, to find that while Bryan was taking care of their newborn baby, he forgot to shave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before You Go To Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> This is entirely inspired by photos of bearded Andrew Rannells (I'm sorry not sorry).

When David crosses the threshold, he has to stop himself from calling out his usual ‘honey, I’m home’. It’s only eight, but Sawyer is definitely asleep, and he doesn’t want to wake him, not even for the sake of greeting his husband – god it feels so good to say it – whom he hasn’t seen for a whole weekend.

He takes off his shoes a little more carelessly than usually, drops his bag by the door, makes his way to the living room.

It’s been the longest weekend of his life, and even though the convention on ways to battle breast cancer has been extremely important and productive, the last day he was practically itching to leave it all to his assistant Stacy and fly back to his nest, to his newly hatched family. 

There’s another part of him that worries for the tiniest second that Bryan is having one of his usual unreasonable panic attacks over how often to change Sawyer’s baby bib, what color scheme to choose for it, and what even is trending for newborn babies this season.

The sight that greets him in the living room immediately makes all his fears dissipate.

The lights are low, and Bryan is half-lying on the sofa, holding an adorably asleep Sawyer close to his chest, whisper-singing to their son something sweet that resembles a lullaby. The tv is on mute, and there are a few candles lit on the coffee table.

Completely enchanted, David wants to watch his undisturbed husband for a few moments longer, notice the way his whole attention is concentrated on Sawyer, notice his unkempt hair and loose sweater, his sweatpants that he usually wouldn’t wear under any circumstances, notice the thick beard that appeared in these few days, notice his tired but happy smile.

“Hey,” David can’t help but say, can’t help but burst that bubble of tranquil warmth, because if he stood watching for only a few moments longer, everything inside of him would melt.

“Hey!” Bryan lifted his head and his smile widened, and his eyes shone brighter, “I’m so glad you’re finally home.”

“God, me too, it’s been one hell of a weekend,” David said, sitting on the sofa next to Bryan, carefully bending down to press a sweet kiss to the corner of his mouth, and a barely-there peck to Sawyer’s forehead, “What about you?”

“I survived,” Bryan’s grip on Sawyer tightens a little, “But actually, everything went very good.”

“Did it?”

“I only had about 6 major and 20 minor crises and almost called you about 50 times,” Bryan confesses, biting into his own smile, “But then I decided I needed to man up and only called Rocky if I needed assistance on the color of the milk bottle I chose for him.”

“Oh yeah? I can see that you’re all man-ed up now,” David can’t stop himself from saying, his voice involuntarily dropping lower, as his hand strokes the side of Bryan’s bearded jaw. All this domesticity, the way they have to whisper not to wake the baby, the loose clothes, his husband’s hair, his natural _smell_ with no hint of his usual cologne, even the candles – are doing unspeakable things to David. __

“Oh?” Bryan tilt his head, intrigued.

“I missed you,” David’s hand finds its way to Bryan’s neck, holding him softly, playing a little with the hair. He holds Bryan’s gaze and hopes that his husband can read all the longing and passion that is now boiling inside of him. It’s ‘I missed you’, but it’s also ‘I need you’, ‘I’m thankful for you’, ‘I want you’, ‘I love you’. Bryan’s eyes soften.

“Oh well, I think it’s way past Sawyer’s bedtime,” Bryan carefully holds Sawyer close to himself as he gets up.

They make their way to Sawyer’s room almost by intuition, and Bryan delicately tucks him in his little cradle without waking him up, then sets up the baby monitor. They stand watching for a moment, hugging close by the waist, until David’s nose gently but insistently nudges Bryan’s shoulder, and Bryan has to fondly roll his eyes.

“Downstairs?” David asks hopefully, as soon as the door to the baby’s room closes behind them.

“What has gotten into you?” Bryan laughs a little, but there’s no judgement in his voice.

“I just like the candles,” David tries to justify himself, but he’s already being dragged down the stairs by his husband.

Then said husband tugs him to sprawl on top of him on the sofa, and David thinks he’s about to lose his mind.

“Waited so long,” he manages breathily, before finally, finally kissing him full on the lips, feeling his welcoming mouth opening for him, those pouty lips kissing back just as eagerly.

His hands immediately fly to stroke at Bryan’s face, feeling the thick but short beard, digging his fingers into it. He couldn’t help but feel the intense masculinity and it goes straight to his head. Bryan looks a little bit older like this, and David momentarily imagines him drinking wine at the dinner table, and has to bite back a groan at how much having a beard already fits this image. He loves how the beard scratches on his own skin when they kiss, he loves that burn. He could’ve stayed like this, kissing Bryan over and over again for all eternity until they were breathless, and be a happy man.

He loves how Bryan blushes under him, skin growing hotter, how his hands get restless and wander over David’s back, pressing him impossibly closer to himself, making every inch of their bodies touch. He loves those little noises of building desperation that escape his mouth, loves how his legs would intertwine closer and closer to his own. How Bryan’s ankle sliding over his calf could be the most erotic thing in the whole world.

“God, you’re so sexy,” he moans, making Bryan shiver, then stops the kisses just in favor to sliding a little to the left, to kiss over his husband’s cheek and jaw, nip at the sensitive skin of his neck. He loved how speechless, captivated by him Bryan became when they were intimate. He was vulnerable, trusting and utterly beautiful. It was only in these moments that Bryan seemed to lose all of his eloquence and witticism, staying silent and reacting so intently to anything David said, enough to make him feel strangely proud.

Burning with desire, David pushes a hand between them, unbuttons his pants and slides them down a little, feeling instant relief on his poor neglected erection. Bryan’s hips stuttered on their own accord, his sweatpants already loose and hiding nothing. In an instant, David lies back on Bryan, kissing him again, and now presses even closer, feeling how hard Bryan is for him against his own hardness. It issn’t exactly comfortable, but David is desperate for something, anything, and at the same time he doesn’t want to stop kissing every inch of Bryan’s lips.

Bryan looks up to him, illuminated by the faint lamp and the candlelight, and David suddenly realizes how much he loves being able to make love to his husband here, in the living room, where so many memories clouded over them, where they build their life together step by step, side by side.

“David,” Bryan pleads with a hint of desperation, and David sinks down again, mouth to mouth, hips to hips, picking up a familiar rhythm. Bryan’s hands are gripping tightly at his lower back urging him to go faster, harder, and David probably should take off his pants entirely, and maybe help Bryan lose his, but right now he opts for the quicker option: lowers their underwear, so they can finally be flesh to flesh, sliding together in a fast, messy rhythm.

He can feel Bryan’s heart thumping against his ribcage, can feel the coldness of his wedding ring pressing directly into the overheated skin of his hips where Bryan untucked his shirt from his pants. It’s wonderful, it’s amazing and he never ever wants to stop. He kisses his beard, breathes in his scent. It’s so good he wants to cry.

“God, Bry, I can’t, I’m gonna-”

He can’t resist it any longer, slides a hand to jerk them both off and just three strokes later comes all over their clothes and exposed bellies, making a mess and through his satisfied blissed state manages to make Bryan come too, loving his cry of ecstasy and the way his body instantly relaxes into his own, his heavy breathing.

It’s so good to be home.

“I’m really glad you’re home,” Bryan suddenly laughs, echoing his thoughts, hugging him tightly, and it’s probably gross since they’re all messy and still exposed, but somehow it’s just perfect, “Even though we should definitely talk about your newfound beard fetish.”

At that, David can’t help but groan, hiding his smile in Bryan’s shoulder. And here he thought he was at least a little bit subtle.


End file.
